Esperanto Magazine — 16 The Cultures Edition | MONSU Caulfield

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COVER ART

Angel Tully

Akira Kerr

Siena Thomas

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Esperanto Magazine is published by MONSU Caufield Inc. Views expressed within do not necessarily reflect those of MONSU Caufield Inc, the editorial panel, the publisher, or any other person associated with Esperanto.

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Madman Printing

Cover — Ball & Doggett Supreme Uncoated 300GSM

Body — Ball & Doggett Supreme Uncoated 100GSM

Overused Grotesk Bookmania

Anonymous, Akira Kerr, Alice O’Brien, Angel Tully, Ash Dowling, Bhavya Vemulapalli, Caleb Katsakis, Elizabeth Sabelino, Fae Gehren, Hailey Jordan Liemena, Karen Grace Prince, Liv Brown, Parisa Sarmady, Shabnam Sidhu, Simonnette Labiran, Talia Davis

Bayley Mifsud, Bhavya Vemulapalli, Chloe Tomaras, Elizabeth Sabelino, Emily Lederman, Gina Day, Hailey Jordan Liemena, Liv Brown, Nikole Bradbury, Parisa Sarmady, Rai Cade, Sakshi Ahuja, Sama Harris, Siena Thomas, Steph Bridges, Talia Davis

Emily Lederman

The Cultures Record

Words by Liv Brown & Illustration by Jennifer Chen

Fashion Flops

Words by Esperanto Editors & Art by Evelyn Johnson

Hey Look! They're Just Like Me

Words by Akira Kerr & Illustration by Liv Brown

Never Shut Up About Your Study Abroad

Words & Photography by Bhavya Vemulapalli

A Guide to the Stars

Words by Alice O’Brien & Watercolour by Gina Day

Maximalism For The Win!

Words by Shabnam Sidhu & Painting by Chloe Tomaras

'Culture Vulture'

Words & Collage by Parisa Sarmady

Roots: Cover Photoshoot

Photography by Emily Lederman

Merindah–Gunya

Art by Bayley Mifsud

Confessions of a Postcard Hoarder

Words & Photography by Talia Davis

Christianity:

Words & Illustration by

Cult Classics

Words by Ava Toon & Collage by Sophie Usatoff

Vegemite: A poetic reflection on Australian Culture

Words by Ash Dowling & Art by Sama Harris

Death to Toxic Masculinity

Words by Fae Gehren & Art by Siena Thomas

Made in the 80's or Misplaced Nostalgia?

Words by Karen Grace Prince & Collage by Nikole Bradbury

Supernova

Words by Caleb Katsakis & Illustration by Rai Cade

Talk To Me In Your Love Language

Words by Simonnette Labiran & Art by Sakshi Ahuja

Taking a scroll on Instagram…

Words by Anonymous & Collage by Steph Bridges

Sorry I can't speak Chinese

Words by Angel Tully & Art by Siena Thomas

Feels Like Home to Me

Words & Art by Elizabeth Sabelino

Editor’s Note

We're back baby! Did you miss us?

We are all trying to fit in — but sometimes standing out is where we truly shine.

Our first edition for the year, ‘Cultures’, explores all the ways in which we relate to the world and people around us, as well as the ways we are still finding our footing. This edition celebrates everything and everyone that makes us into the people we are.

‘Cultures’ embodies all facets of our identity from ethnicity and race, to spirituality, sexuality, and even our lifestyle and fashion choices— it is a love letter to the unique character of our generation.

With Love,

Illustration: Jennifer Chen

IG: @slorpentorpentine

Words: Liv Brown

IG: @oliiviabrown

The Cultures Record

Don't Delete The Kisses Wolf Alice

End of Beginning Djo

Nothing Matters The Last Dinner Party

Dial Drunk Noah Kahan

24 aleksiah

I Don’t Want It Teen Jesus and the Jean Teasers

Von dutch Charli XCX

Ribs Lorde

Los Ageless St. Vincent bad idea! girl in red

This Hell Rina Sawayama

Dribble Sycco

Tied Up! Genesis Owusu

Casual Chappell Roan

Good Sex Susannah Joffe

Green Honda BENNE

BRAIN ROT SLOE JACK

Raypirri King Stingray

Holy Moley Lime Cordiale, IDRIS

Suburbia Press Club

Treat Me Like a Slut Kim Petras

Crush Ethel Cain

Serotonin girl in red

Free Florence + The Machine

23 Wallice

Grow Up Tomorrow The Beaches

Perfect Places Lorde

Not Strong Enough boygenius

Like Real People Do Hozier

Girls Darts Panic Attacks Eaglemont

Fashion Flops

Words: Esperanto Team IG: @esperanto.magazine

Art: Evelyn Johnson IG: @evj.design

“What is your unpopular fashion opinion?”

This question has echoed through the cavernous social media landscape, where people have voiced their hatred for new or revived fashion trends. You may have watched these videos and vehemently agreed with the interviewee's opinion, or maybe you found yourself yelling at the screen “What do you mean?? I love that trend!”. With how fast fashion culture goes, in a matter of weeks, a trend that was coming in hot can be pushed out by something new and shiny. So here are some of the trends that have popped up in recent times that we think are total flops.

Low-rise Skinny Jeans

Low-rise skinny jeans seriously have to stay away from me. Please leave me and my waistline alone. Let me and my high-rise mum jeans skip our merry way into the gloriously comfortable sunset. Skinny jeans are tight, they’re hard to put on and they make my legs look like a pair of freshly gnawed chicken drumsticks. Not to mention the constant fear of the exposed bum-crack every time I bent over. I left that feeling in 2009, thank you very much.

The Dad Runners

I don’t know if it's because I get violent flashbacks from casual clothes days in primary school, where the only shoes I had to pair with my ill-fitting jeans were my runners, but I HATE this trend. I'm absolutely down for the sneaker look. Nike Air Force 1s, Adidas Gazelles, those yellow and black Onitsuka Tigers? Wonderful! Excellent! But for the love of God can we please stop pairing massive, white, ugly New Balances with wide-leg pants or white flowy dresses? We don’t have to be ready for an intense hike and a trendy bottomless brunch at the same time. We need to stop dressing like a teenage boy whose mother still puts his outfits together.

Baggy Jorts

I literally cannot think of a more unflattering cut of shorts to wear than the ¾ length baggy jorts. I don’t care how many influencers and festival goers think they’re cool, I will die happy only if my style has never been violated by putting a pair of jorts on my body. Don’t get me wrong, I love an Adam Sandler movie and he always rocks the ‘middle-aged dad who doesn’t care about his appearance and has no sense of style but still has a hot AF wife’ look. But 100% of the time I would rather be dressing like the hot wife than the 50-year-old man who has let himself go. #canceljorts!

Hey Look! They’re Just Like Me

Words: Akira Kerr

IG: @akira.kerr

Illustration: Liv Brown

IG: @oliiviabrown

Paxton Hall-Yoshida: The heart-throb I never thought I needed.

But there he was, the love interest in Netflix’s trashy-ish teen drama, ‘Never Have I Ever’. Serving as the problematic protagonist Devi’s guilty pleasure fantasy, he was your typical academically challenged, pretending not to care about anything but the school sports team, impossibly attractive friend-to-lover that every good rom-com needs. For me, the only difference between him and every other boy next door depicted on television was that he is half-Japanese.

Do not get me wrong, ‘Never Have I Ever’ is not a show that should be esteemed for its character growth or riveting plot. Not to mention that Devi ends up with the wrong guy. But one thing it does well is representation. The diversity depicted in the cast must be applauded, and the writers (including Queen Mindy Kaling herself) have done it in a way that is meaningful to its viewers and doesn’t rely on clichés and stereotyping. This is why seeing Darren Barnet’s character Paxton Hall-Yoshida meant so much to me.

You see, half-Japanese representation in the media is so hard to come by in Western media. We rarely get to see ourselves on the silver screen, so sometimes it’s hard to believe that we are actually visible to others, or even to ourselves. The only representation I was ever afforded as a kid was Hiro and Tadashi Hamada from Big Hero Six, who we can only assume are half-Japanese by the appearance of their white aunt. Living between the realms of two races and cultures is a struggle that many of us face. So why wouldn’t we want to be able to see ourselves reflected in the media every once in a while?

It was last year, while everyone was working hard at uni and I was working hard getting through as many seasons of shows as possible before my study abroad, that I first

encountered Paxton. I think one of the things that us Halfies can all relate to is that it takes a moment to click when we see another Halfie that is the same mix as us. Often, I will realise someone else is half-Japanese and just audibly say “OHH”. It was no exception for Paxton. It took me until someone in the show said Paxton’s full name, specifically his very Japanese surname ‘Yoshida’, to realise our connection. From that point on, I was rooting for him. Not only did I now have another character who I could feel a piece of myself in, but he was a LOVE INTEREST. He was a COOL GUY. I never get to be a cool guy!

Paxton’s identity as a half-Japanese person made me feel so validated he would go home to his normal suburban house, he would sit down and eat with his white mum and Japanese dad, and he would go and visit his Ojiichan (grandpa) every now and then. When he calls his Ojiichan, he speaks in Japanese, and when they eat Japanese food they eat with chopsticks. Most importantly, he could walk around his school without being tokenised for being Asian.

To see a character having the same cultural identity as me, integrating into society with an unwavering sureness of who he was made me feel like I could just be too.

If I could just share with you one closing memory of my admiration of Paxton it would be this. For an extra credit report, Paxton presents to his class the story of his Ojiichan’s time in an internment camp during the war. Even though I can’t come close to understanding the trauma Japanese-American immigrants at this time suffered and the continued repercussions it has this scene felt like such a poignant representation of what it feels like to embrace your culture and show that you actually care. ‘Never Have I Ever’ offered me guidance in a place I never thought I would find it. So thank you Darren Barnet, and thank you Paxton, for being the representation I needed to edge closer to embracing the whole me.

Ivo of Dive Station Pattaya from the boat day on 22 April 2023

Hill Tribe Village, Pattaya, Thailand

Never Shut Up About Your Study Abroad

Words & Photography: Bhavya Vemulapalli

IG: @basically_bhavs

My semester abroad assured me that I don’t write because I’m a journalist. I write because the stranger’s kindness keeps me alive and thriving.

I secured a scholarship to complete a global media semester exchange at the Monash Malaysia campus for Semester One last year.

Looking back, I couldn’t have imagined my global experience in any other way. I was lucky enough to secure my dream internship at Al Jazeera by cold messaging the Asia-Pacific Editor on LinkedIn. It was the perfect opportunity to immerse myself in the nuances of Southeast Asian (SEA) politics.

It’s been a year since returning to monotony and it’s taken me a while to make peace with the fact that it’ll take time for me to be able to solo-travel again. It seems like work and life keep getting in the way.

Two years, two master’s in journalism and international relations, two newsrooms (The Age and Al Jazeera), six countries, unlimited kindness and uncertainty later, my semester abroad in Malaysia taught me the importance of being a kind stranger. I’m passionate about travelling and conversing with strangers. We may not speak the same language, but where there’s kindness, there’s communication.

Despite travelling alone, I wasn’t lonely. I found solace in strangers and lived and felt love through them. A random person gave me his petrol as my bike stopped in Vietnam. A junkie in Cambodia let me pet his dog and dropped me at the hostel safely at night when there was not enough signal on my phone. These encounters made me realise that strangers are my kindness pill. The more consistent I was with these pills, the better I healed.

In 2023 I turned 23. Around the same time I was awarded my first global byline in Al Jazeera, which was a big deal for me professionally. My personal adventures that year

were equally memorable. I went solo scuba diving in Thailand with a school started by a mother for her daughter. I befriended a girl at a Veterans’ bar and ended up roaming Pattaya with her and her friends. I even got a tattoo on the beachside at midnight on my birthday. Everything felt unreal! From a shop owner asking me to pay later for shampoo change in Cambodia to sharing hostels and Airbnbs with worldly strangers across SEA, one thing I learned is that I’m never alone.

Packing my life in a suitcase every other year as a digital nomad is daunting but the stories keep me moving. I’ll never shut up about this semester abroad because the 12-year-old l ‘misfit’ me, who read her way through childhood, should know her life is unfolding just as her favourite protagonists’ did. Unlike her, they are still trapped between her tiny boarding school library book pages.

I grew up reading Telugu language political literature from Ma’s home library in a small city called Vijayawada in Andhra Pradesh, India. The books I read were a product of a literary collaboration between Progress Publishers in Moscow and Visalandhra Publishing House in Vijayawada. As a result, until the 2010s, generations of Telugu readers grew up on a staple of Soviet children's literature.

These influences serve as both a reason for politics at the dinner table and the driving force behind my desire to travel in search of stories. Finding my way through journalism, filmmaking and diplomacy majors, I'm always homesick for places I’ve never been. As a nomad, the people are always home for me.

As my diving instructor, Ivo Louwaard from Thailand said, “What is fear? Your thoughts. What are your thoughts? They’re not real. So what's fear again? Nothing!"

Several things might stop you. But when it comes to travelling abroad, dive in headfirst.

‘A

Guide to the Stars’

A

guide to astrology and the confusing things called zodiac signs

Words: Alice O’Brien IG: @alice.0brien

Watercolour: Gina Day IG: @gkhdesign_

Welcome to the world of stars. No, I’m not talking about NASA or the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I’m talking about the ancient practice of astrology. Can you believe people were trying to make sense of stars over 5000 years ago the practice is nearly as old as the family dog that just won’t die.

Originally used for predicting seasonal shifts, astrology has evolved into a deeper way of understanding our world. I bet your life can feel like it’s turning upside down sometimes, especially with Jojo Siwa’s rebrand. So looking to the stars for answers about this crazy world feels like the natural solution. It’s easy to follow the astrology ‘trend’ as there’s a constant stream of new posts and TikToks made about it. Don’t lie, I know you watch until the end of a TikTok to see what ‘Friends’ character you are based on your zodiac sign.

Astrology will always be trendy because the stars aren’t going anywhere. So here’s a rundown of how it all works.

What even is Astrology anyway?

Source: https://www.vogue.in/culture-and-living/content/the-zodiac -signs-best-traits-are-you-confident-loyal-or-philosophical

According to the Oxford Dictionary, astrology is the study of movements and relative positions of celestial bodies interpreted as having an influence on human affairs and the natural world.

But what does that actually mean?

To summarise that wordy definition, thanks Oxford, people who study or follow astrology believe the stars, planets, the Sun and the Moon influence our emotions, feelings, and what happens in the world. Kind of scary right? Don’t worry, it seems confusing at first. But trust me, you’ll soon be reading the stars like your favourite

Let's talk about the confusing things called zodiac signs. Have you ever been asked the infamous “What’s your star sign?” question and thought “Here we go again with these astrology fanatics”.

There's constant chatter about zodiac signs. From movie references to online trends to Buzzfeed quizzes guessing your zodiac sign based on your favourite food. But talk of zodiac signs has been around longer than your grandma's favourite cake recipe, aka a really long time. Back in the late fifth century BCE, the Babylonians divided the sky by constellations the Sun moved through into 12 sections. These, as I bet you can guess, became the 12 zodiac signs!

Why does my zodiac sign have a personality trait assigned to it?

Have you ever wondered why some people blame their personality traits on their zodiac sign? A classic example is “Sorry I’m late, I’m such a Sagittarius”.

Each zodiac sign has a few typical personality traits, with the best traits being:

Aries: Courage

Taurus: Stable

Gemini: Outgoing

Cancer: Loyal

Leo: Confidence

Virgo: Perfectionism

Libra: Balance

Scorpio: Passionate

Sagittarius: Spontaneous

Capricorn: Consistent

Aquarius: Philosophical

Pisces: Romantic

Okay, I’ll be real, being a Pisces will not automatically make you a romantic… no matter how much you want your Pisces boyfriend to take you on well-thought-out dates. Through social media and pop culture we have pushed this idea that your zodiac sign will determine who you are, but in reality, everyone has traits from all signs. So your best traits can be both consistent with and divergent from those assigned by your zodiac sign. It’s no wonder, as how can one zodiac sign explain your whole personality?

Wait hold up, my birth chart gives me more than one zodiac?

Your birth chart reveals the location of the stars at the exact time of your birth. The Sun, the Moon and the Rising Sun are three key parts of your birth chart, each having it's own zodiac signs depending on your birth time. Yes, crazy right, you technically have more than one zodiac sign.

Let me break it down. The Sun is your main zodiac sign the one you say when you get asked “What’s your star sign?”. The Moon zodiac is the placement of the Moon in one of the 12 constellations. The Rising Sun refers to which zodiac sign was rising on the eastern horizon at the time of your birth. Think of them as the three big signs, your three big sisters.

The

Sun

The Sun, as a source of constant light, represents your true identity. This means that your sun sign influences your sense of self.

The Moon

Your subconscious and who you are when you’re alone is represented by the Moon, as it too only comes out at night.

The Rising Sun

Like rays of sunlight, your rising sign indicates how you present to the world. It influences the personality you show to others, how you look from the outside and the general vibe you give off. Your rising sun sign can act as a mask to others, but your sun sign is your true self.

So, what now?

To fully understand the power of the stars, create your own birth chart! Call up your parents to find your birth time, pop it into a birth chart calculator on the internet and dive into the world of astrology.

So, the next time someone asks, “what’s your sign?”, you can come back and name not one, not two, but all three key zodiac signs… giving them much more information than they asked for!

But just remember, you can always blame being a Sagittarius for being late we all need a quick excuse sometimes. I won’t judge and neither will the stars.

Maximalism For The Win!

Words: Shabnam Sidhu

IG: @sidhushabnam_

Painting: Chloe Tomaras

IG: @chloetomaras

I only want one thing. Everything.

Less is a bore. So, I have curated my personal aesthetic to be anything but. I tried dressing in ways that made me look like I fit in, but gosh, did it feel suffocating. I looked like Marie Kondo’s wet dream.

I hated it.

Minimalism is just… not my vibe. I have accepted that I cannot embrace the Sofia Richie aesthetic. What I can embrace though, is to be a witch with magical powers surrounded by my worldly possessions. My hypnotising eyes, blue mascara, red lips, chunky moonstone rings and my tiered black dress evoke an aura of magnetism everywhere I go.

Picture this: a green velvet rug, a magenta bubble couch, a wall adorned with appropriation art, a never-ending stack of feminist rage literature and one of those orange doughnut lamps from IKEA. My future space will be an interactive museum bejewelled with bits and bobs of my identity.

I want to give people the chance to take a glimpse into the inner workings of my brain. I want them to step into my world and think it’s quite whimsical. Perhaps a little bit unhinged but in the most vibrant way possible.

More is more. And it is not just a physical expression

for me. I live passionately and romanticise even the most mundane moments of my existence.

Don’t believe me? Just look at my notes app.

My thoughts are exuberant.

I feel everything so intensely. I will not shy away from saying exactly what is on my mind. I will ask you what your horoscope is and pull out a deck of tarot cards to do a reading. I will wear my prettiest dress on a grocery run and hope that one day, I’ll meet the love of my life whilst reaching for the same orange.

I’ve given up trying to be conventionally attractive and desirable. I refuse to conform to the status quo. I am so deeply vivacious that I cannot bear the thought of being less than.

My Indian heritage has made it practically impossible for me to not be over the top. Extravagance is our middle name. It would be a shame for me to not live as boldly and colourfully as the protagonists of my favourite Bollywood films. I adorn my hands with intricate henna designs, wear jhumkas and bindis with every outfit I put together. The eccentric blend of modern and traditional features of my identity is what makes me beautiful.

I want to be the girl who lives boldly and is proud of who she has become. I want my personal aesthetic to tell a story. I want to illuminate every corner of the world with my unbridled maximalist energy.

Oh wait, I am that girl.

‘Culture Vulture’

Words & Collage: Parisa Sarmady IG: @sarmadystudio.ai

As someone of Persian and Fijian–Indian ethnic descent, hair oiling was a common and normal practice in my household growing up that was performed by my Nani (grandma) on the weekends. Even though she couldn’t speak much English, and I couldn’t understand Hindi, these little ritualistic acts of affection helped bridge the gap between us in a way that language failed to.

However, upon entering the gates of my predominantly White school, shame tainted these precious traditions. In an effort to blend in, I would scrub my scalp multiple times to erase any trace of the oil that marked me as different. I didn’t want to give them a reason to see me as weird. And thanks to my half–Persian genetics, my hairy arms and legs already set me apart. So yeah, you can imagine what a nightmare that was to navigate.

Now, you can imagine my surprise, then, to see hair oiling appear all over my Instagram reels. Why did this bother me so much? Well, it was being performed by mostly White influencers. How is it possible that something I was so embarrassed about has become a popular and even normalised part of people's beauty routines? If you also identify as a Person of Colour (POC), you’re most likely reading this recalling a similar situation yourself.

The line between cultural appreciation and appropriation can sometimes be blurred. Generally, cultural appropriation is the one we’re most familiar with as it’s usually the one that makes headlines. By definition, according to Oxford Languages, cultural appropriation is “the unacknowledged or inappropriate adoption of the customs, practices, ideas, etc. of one people or society by members of another and typically more dominant people or society”. Notice how this definition emphasises that cultural appropriation is when a cultural element is adopted but performed in a disrespectful and/or exploitative manner. Contrary to what Urban Dictionary user Made You Think writes, it is not “[trying] to make someone feel guilty about their discovery of another culture different than their own''. I’m all for cultural exchange, it’s a beautiful act that celebrates diversity and encourages an understanding of other cultures. No one

is saying it’s bad to learn about other cultures, but it has to be done respectfully. More importantly, credit needs to be given where it’s due. And that’s essentially what cultural appreciation is about. It’s honouring another culture by educating yourself about its traditions and history, and having it come from a place of genuine interest.

Nevertheless, it’s important we recognise the difference between the two terms when consuming beauty and fashion trends. Whilst one promotes harmony, the other strips a culture of its practice’s significance. To better help y’all understand the difference, remember Ariana Grande in her ‘Dangerous Woman’ era? Well, that’s pretty much what it looks like in action. For those who aren’t familiar with what I’m referring to, essentially, during the release of her third studio album, ‘Dangerous Woman’, Grande’s complexion consisted of a dark spray tan (much darker than her actual skin tone mind you) and she adopted Blaccent in her speech. Grande was profiting off her appropriation of African–American culture whilst doing the bare minimum to use her platform to advocate and voice issues that affect African–American communities.

With this example in mind, Grande has turned African–American culture into a fashionable look, oversimplifying and reducing it into merely an aesthetic without acknowledging the painful history and ongoing adversities faced by African–Americans today. Especially since Grande herself isn’t a POC, by commodifying African-American culture, she is reinforcing power imbalances and indirectly participating in the colonisation of beauty and fashion trends.

Whilst this may not be one’s intention, such actions can contribute to already existing systematic inequalities that detrimentally impact marginalised groups.

So, we must ask ourselves, as ethnic customs are increasingly becoming a part of our mainstream beauty and fashion landscape: does this ‘trendification’ of ethnic customs undermine the cultural value of these practices? We, as consumers, have a responsibility to reflect upon such questions as we hold the power. Where we decide to put our money can help preserve cultural integrity and prevent the commodification of cultural traditions.

Roots

Photography: Emily Lederman IG: @h3lloem1ly

Styling & Direction: Siena Thomas

Models: Akira Kerr, Angel Tully & Natalia GP

Espy Loves: Merindah-Gunya

Art: Bayley Mifsud

IG: @merindahgunya

Bayley Mifsud is a proud member of the Peek and Kirrae Whurrong people of the Maar nation from South West Victoria (Warrnambool).

Her Aboriginal name is Merindah-Gunya meaning “Beautiful Spirit” in Peek Whurrong language, which was gifted to her through a naming ceremony on Country, supported by her Elders and community.

Bayley has a passion for community development, diversity and self-determination as well as continuing the gift of storytelling through her artwork.

Bayley now lives on Wurundjeri Country in Naarm (Melbourne) and has lived a large portion of her life there. Bayley was taught Aboriginal art at a very young age, by her Elders at the Brambuk Cultural Centre in the Grampians in Victoria.

The artwork is called Maar which means 'The People' in Peek Whurrong language. It tells a story about connection and strength in Bayley's community.

Esperanto has collaborated with Bayley to create a Risograph print of her painting Maar 'The People'.

If you're reading this it's too late… your pullout poster was here I swear

Confessions of a Postcard Hoarder

Words & Photography: Talia Davis

IG: @tooindecisiveforthis_

For as long as I can remember I have had an obsession with collecting stuff.

Am I on the path to becoming a hoarder? Maybe. Is it a problem? Slightly. Does my room look like a bomb site due to all the things I have collected over the years? Definitely.

Although I have a lot of different collections — magazines, stuffed toys, and a recently rediscovered eraser collection (don’t ask…) my most prized and impressive collection has to be my postcards.

Spanning over six years, the collection consists of over 80 different postcards from all sorts of places. Some were bought, such as my 20 plus NGV postcards (NGV sponsor me please), but found some of my favourites in coffee shops, on the side of the road and in op shops. Some were even gifted to me by strangers during overseas visits.

For many years this collection was a massive visual mess on my bedroom wall. But because of one too many jump scares from waking up to David Hockney staring at me, they have now been retired to my many designated collection drawers.

Each of these postcards acts as a reminder of cherished memories of culture and people. Not only are they my memories memorialised on the colourful paper, they also encapsulate the important cultures and identities of countless individuals who I have never met.

Despite the logistical nightmare of this ever-growing collection — as I am very quickly running out of little hiding spots that I can store them in without risking running the risk of them getting thrown out by respective family members, I continue to deem this collection worthy of keeping because of the conversations it facilitates with the people around me.

It's fun showing someone this crazy collection for the first time - as they sift through the heavily Blutacked mess and ask for the story behind my sign language or milk bar postcard. It offers me and others, a way to connect to places we may have never been, or tap into an identity that is so different to how we experience the world. It reminds me to look up and slow down.

To many more years of collecting coloured paper.

P.S. Mum, please use this article as evidence that my hoarding is for the sake of education and research.

Christianity: The In-Betweens

Words &

Illustration:

IG: @haileyjordanlie

Hailey Jordan Liemena

Growing up, my life heavily revolved around religion I was a devout Christian. It was exactly how you’d picture it attending church at least twice a week, especially during holidays like Easter and Christmas. I would attend important church seminars regarding the famed Doomsday, where believers will be taken up to heaven in an event called the Rapture, while a series of cataclysmic events unfold on Earth. During this time, I was also heavily involved in the ministry as a dancer and a singer. Looking back, I acknowledge it was a major part of my life growing up. But at the same time, a part of me wishes that I hadn’t dedicated so much time to church. I felt as though they viewed the world through a distorted lens. However, being regularly involved in the ministry meant I had to accept these beliefs as though they were the absolute truth. There was no room for doubt, as questioning the Church meant going against the Bible and therefore God Himself.

As time passed, I grew increasingly exhausted with all of the responsibilities that came with serving in the ministry. To put it simply, I was burnt out. It was only during thepandemic when time away from church allowed me to reflect more on my relationship with religion, that I was able to acknowledge this. By the time restrictions eased, I was a completely different person, and just a few months later, I was faced with yet another life-changing situation: the big move to Melbourne.

As an international student in an unfamiliar country, I was exposed to people of various cultures and beliefs. Being surrounded by such a sheer amount of diversity made me challenge the deeply rooted beliefs that were instilled into me by the Church. I felt as though I had spent my entire life in an extremely tight bubble, and that bubble burst within my first few months of living in Melbourne.

As time went on, my relationship with religion only became more complicated. When my friends asked me if I was religious I would reply with a simple “no”, as I was ashamed of how I would be perceived. How could I call

myself religious when everything around me was telling me to run away from it? Amidst it all, I began to detest Christianity. At the core of all of these emotions was my fear of being perceived as anything other than perfect. Growing up, I’ve always felt a daunting amount of pressure from both the world and the Church to be flawless. Back in middle school, I was often mocked by my friends for not being ‘pure’ or ‘holy’ enough. I also felt that there was an unspoken rule in the Christian community to never reveal the ugly and only speak of the good, despite their persistent attempts to convince us otherwise. As a result, I’ve always felt the need to perform for my faith to be validated. I was scared of imperfection.

Which leads me to the befuddling question is my relationship with religion still worth it?

After a lot of introspection, I’ve come to realise that my encounter with spirituality should never be based on the fear of being imperfect. In fact, I now think that it’s perfectly alright to be imperfect. I admit that I’m still figuring out where I stand with religion; I’ve barely been to church this year and I don’t think I will anytime soon. But I’m slowly starting to be okay with that. Over time, I’ve learnt that being confused about my spirituality isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I’d rather focus on what Christianity means to me rather than have the Church dictate what makes or breaks a ‘good’ Christian. I’m tired of constantly trying to live up to unachievable standards of perfection and I’m also tired of the Church labelling it as ‘God’s Love’ when it really is just religious bias against anyone who doesn’t conform to their unrealistic expectations.

I remind myself that being confused doesn’t make me a bad person, and it certainly doesn’t mean that I have failed to be ‘good enough’. It just means that my journey is slightly different and I have to be okay with not having it all figured out. Sometimes, it’s alright to take things one day at a time and see how things unfold little by little. In the end, we’ll never know where our journey will take us but if your path eventually leads you to a place of self-assurance and peace, then it’ll all be worth it. I find peace in knowing that I’m not the only one who is struggling with where I stand with religion, so I hope you find peace knowing that you aren’t alone either.

Cult Classics

Words: Ava Toon

IG: @avalouuise

Collage: Sophie Usatoff

IG: @sophieusat

2: ‘Talk to Me’ (2023), dir.

Danny Philippou, Michael Philippou

In this contemporary Aussie horror, a group of teenage friends use a disembodied hand to become possessed for short periods of time, and what seems harmless quickly escalates. ‘Talk to Me’ has a believable, realistic cast of characters who represent everyday Australian teenagers. The production design and costumes are refreshingly normal. They’re not trying too hard, and they don't feel like a forty-five-year-old finding internet buzzwords and putting a full SHEIN outfit on an actor to represent our generation. The Philippou brothers, partly due to their time on YouTube, can understand and portray a younger demographic accurately. The brothers’ absurdist humour is woven throughout the film, and it makes the horror feel terrifyingly realistic.

Growing up surrounded by mobile technology and the internet is something that distinguishes our generation from those before us, whether we like it or not. But like any other generation, we still have lives and interests outside of the internet. It’s getting tiring watching the same vapid portrayal of Gen Z based solely on TikTok without exploring interpretations of our generation in other forms of media. But despite our differences, there are some things that all generations can unite in. The tradition of going to the cinema hasn’t died, and young viewers are still searching for representation. With that in mind, here are four pieces of screen media that I think embody the culture of our generation in an original and meaningful way.

1: ‘Bodies Bodies Bodies’ (2022), dir. Halina Reijn

In ‘Bodies Bodies Bodies’, Director Halina Reijn doesn’t shy away from making obvious references to our generation this satirical movie is very on the nose. A group of rich teenagers stuck in a mansion lose their internet access, and naturally, chaos and gore follow. The storyline explores concepts and problems relevant to Gen Z, like the obsession with self-presentation and digital spaces, the role technology plays in our romantic relationships, and faux-activism and allyship. In a rendition of our generation’s ‘Lord of the Flies’, the obnoxious yet relatable dialogue on-screen prompts the viewer to self-reflect on their own behaviours. The cadence of the way the characters speak exudes their desperate need to look cool, something that all of us have felt at least once as a teenagers.

“A podcast takes a lot of work, okay?”

“I woke up and Mia was, I don’t know, sucking my feet. What the fuck?”

3: ‘Bottoms’ (2023), dir. Emma Seligman

‘Bottoms’ takes the teenage loser trope we’ve all seen growing up and revives it. Seligman parodies traditional character archetypes while also breaking barriers: the comedic leads are lesbians. To date the cheerleaders they both have crushes on, best friends PJ and Josie create a fake fight club at their high school, under the guise of female empowerment. With campy moments and a satirical awareness of character clichés, Seligman achieves a fresh, relevant take on the 2000s high-school loser movie. ‘Bottoms’ represents different sexualities without reinforcing limiting stereotypes or one-dimensional characters.

“Could the ugly, untalented gays please report to the principal’s office?”

4: ‘Eighth Grade’ (2018), dir. Bo Burnham

‘Eighth Grade’ is classified as a ‘Comedy/Thriller’. And although there’s no violence or horror, thriller is a fitting term for the intense levels of discomfort and awkwardness this movie will make you feel. Experiencing middle school life again through the eyes of its shy protagonist Kayla, viewers feel with her and for her as she makes some questionable and embarrassing decisions. With the outdated meme references and dabbing, honest and poignant portrayals of relationships and Kayla’s YouTube channel, ‘Eighth Grade’ hits the mark on the unique upbringing of our generation, and the trainwreck of nostalgia that comes with it.

“Gucci.”

‘Vegemite’

A poetic reflection on Australian culture

It tastes salty like the ocean like fish & chips and the beaks of thieving gulls, bolder than the Sun.

It tastes strong and self-assured like dancing the Nutbush with friends at a party and calling our game football with no qualifiers even though football is something else in other places, sort of like thongs.

It tastes playful like soft self-deprecation and political caricatures in a democratic society.

It tastes wistful like the time I spent Christmas in Europe with a two-dimensional barbecue of blurry snags and fragmented yarns.

It tastes bitter like division over a date as we grapple with our history and how we tend to undercut those who are a little too successful for their own good. Don’t they know that poppies should all be the same height?

But it is good like working hard like honesty like mateship through the early days of our harsh outback, through wartime and pandemic and the everyday — like giving another Aussie a Vegemite sandwich in Brussels.

IG: @selahpoetry

IG: @designs_by_sama

Words: Ash Dowling

Art: Sama Harris

‘Death to Toxic Masculinity’

Cracking Open the Mask

Words: Fae Gehren, she/her IG: @faeble_photography

Interviewees: Leo he/him

Nachiketa he/they Anonymous he/him

Linocut: Siena Thomas IG: @designedbysiena

“We do a great disservice to boys in how we raise them; we stifle the humanity of boys. We define masculinity in a very narrow way, masculinity becomes this hard, small cage and we put boys inside the cage. We teach boys to be afraid of fear. We teach boys to be afraid of weakness, of vulnerability. We teach them to mask their true selves…”

This quote is from Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s speech ‘We Should All Be Feminists’ a speech that blew apart everything I had believed about gender equality. I suddenly became aware of how gender expectations entrap us all how men’s and women’s issues are not separate but intersectional. They need to be addressed together if we want to stride towards a better society, and out of the quagmire of patriarchal consumerism. The conversation around toxic masculinity requires vulnerability and courage, especially because it is easily shut down by those around us.

So I want to dive into this conversation: how does gender inequality affect men?

What does toxic masculinity even mean?

Masculinity in itself is not toxic, and it would be wrong to claim otherwise. However, the pressure cooker that is societal expectations for men is toxic. And these expectations have been forged over centuries through religion, politics and cultural demands.

The ‘masculine’ image looks a little like this:

Possession and ownership. Dominance and power. Wealth and financial success. Anger and Aggression. The breadwinner. The protector. The fighter. Objectification of women. Sexual prowess as a badge of honour. Shouldering problems alone. Ridiculing emotional vulnerability. Never asking for help.

But where, in this image, are the men whose eyes light up with glee? Whose laugh carries across the room and whose bright smile warms people’s hearts?

Where are the men whose tenderness and care softens the brutality of even the hardest times? Where are the men whose open tears make everyone around him feel safer, more seen?

Where are the men who seek help and encourage others around them to do the same?

And more importantly, where are the people who hold space

for these men?

For it is not only men who enforce these stereotypes, but women too. Getting the ‘ick’ or finding kindness off-putting. Or rolling our eyes at the mention of men’s issues something that is all too often used to minimise our own hardship. Maybe this is a trauma we carry from generations of living under the thumb of a patriarchal vortex, but in carrying our trauma instead of facing it we are locking the door and leaving men on the other side. And facing this trauma does not mean burying our pain to make space for someone else’s, it is about having constructive conversations with each other so that we may all see things a little clearer. Especially because much of this suffering is invisible to those who do not walk the same path as you. So if we fail to bring it to light, we are left dangling on either side of a ravine. This divide burrows into the heart of our relationships, our friendships, and our families not to mention the systemic issues we all face.

So we need to bridge the gap together. Instead of building two different bridges, next to each other, with our backs turned.

For now, let’s shine some light on what toxic masculinity can look like. To do this, I asked some of my male friends for help.

Nachiketa

“Fundamentally there is a construct of hierarchies that the masculine ecosystem works on. Every masculine identity is assumed to be aware of their place in the hierarchy.”

“I have seen how limiting, unreal and toxic this can be.”

Toxic masculinity pits men against each other and creates an environment of competition, uncertainty and performativity. Nachiketa points out that men feel the need to be “constantly proving themselves, trying to ‘earn’ things from the world,” and it burns them out.

Leo

One element of toxic masculinity that Leo sees very often is “that guys get with girls to impress other guys”. This is where we get that pressure for men to nose-dive into their sexuality without taking the time to consider what they really want, and we end up with women being “treated like an object”, as Leo puts it. We also see this in movies all the time with the classic womaniser being idolised by other male characters and brandishing their female conquests as a badge of honour. This culture of bragging about one’s sex lives can create a really uncomfortable space for men and a pressure that seeps into their identity. It also blocks real connections, with men and women, “because [men are] constantly pressured to put on a mask to impress both”.

Anonymous

“I feel like toxic masculinity is a byproduct of young men not having any role models. When I was growing up, I never saw my dad or my grandpa, or any of my extended male family members, cry or show any sort of emotions in a meaningful way. So I guess you kind of grew up as a kid and harboured that. Then you have to deal with that as an adult, which is hard.”

Thanks to these wonderful men who shared their experiences and thoughts, we can see this masculine mask that has been passed down through generations. A mask that is hardened by the images that dictate how men are supposed to be or the social construct of what it means to be a real man. On top of all these expectations around how men are supposed to act, there has also been an avalanche of new body standards for men over the last century. Hardened bodies, hardened minds, hardened hearts. And a rock- hard mask. And I haven’t even gotten to the issue of men’s mental health and the lack of support systems available to them.

But we are seeing some cracks in this mask. Men are starting to push back; they are exploring their gender through clothes, make-up, hobbies, jobs and more. I hope that one day, we can take off the mask altogether. For there is no one way to be a real man, society just hasn’t got the memo yet.

In the meantime, l would like to leave you with a song recommendation from my brother: ‘Alcatraz’ by Oliver Riot (trust me, it’ll make sense if you listen to the song).

Made in the 80s or Misplaced Nostalgia?

Words: Karen Grace Prince IG: @karengracex

Collage: Nikole Bradbury IG: @nikoledesigns_

You’ve probably met someone like this.

They own a wardrobe that resembles the cast of ‘That ‘70s Show’. They think Pink Floyd is the greatest band to walk the Earth. They insist on capturing everything on a film camera. They refer to themselves as ‘old souls’ while pining for a past they took no part in making.

It’s me. I’m that someone. But I can’t say I don’t love it.

I’ve made Fleetwood Mac almost synonymous with my personality. I can recite Kafka’s greatest lines whilst simultaneously reminding everyone that he was a talent “gone too soon”. I will fight tooth and nail to declare Akira Kurosawa as the greatest director of all time (he is). I like to secretly upvote insufferable YouTube comments that take a dump on Gen Z trends. I purchase unnecessarily expensive postcards that I mail to friends who are merely a text away.

I know exactly what I’m doing. I toe the line between being deeply pretentious and incredibly self-aware. I am a mosaic of experiences, with little to no original thoughts, yet I borrow fragments from the past to form my core identity. I am the very antithesis of my being, the auteur of self-imposed superficiality.

And yet, I’m here to defend that… Hear me out.

There is a certain allure to romanticising nostalgia glamourising a time you can never quite experience yet still finding a way to reminisce through art that has stood the test of time. The cultural zeitgeist of the past offers solace to us who seek refuge away from the omnipresence of technology. We exist in the fringes of a time lost, living vicariously through the remnants of media,

culture and literature that has been persevered through generations. The pleasure of simple analog experiences writing letters by hand, reading a book page to page or picking up records from the store feel perverted with a swipe of your finger. And so, to claim these analog experiences feels like an act of defiance an attempt to stand out against a crowd of more of the same.

I was born right at the cusp of the 2000s, not young enough to relate to Gen Z and not nearly old enough to be a Millennial. My cultural fabric has been woven with influences from every end of the spectrum. My father’s music collection became my music collection. My mother’s vintage clothing soon found its way into my closet. My brother’s millennial snobbery earned me a ‘PhD in maturity’. I am a patchwork quilt of conflicting periods. I have poached and appropriated. I have absorbed and adopted. I have everything and nothing at the same time. And so the culture and aesthetics of bygone years have found new life through my generational dysphoria.

Alas, my ambiguous place in the space-time continuum is no match for the humbling of common sense. The one that reminds me that I’m a woman and a Person of Colour. There are plenty of elements of the past I don’t love I certainly don’t reminisce about living under colonialism or having no voting rights. Social progress, however substantial, is the only reason I can afford to enjoy what I can today, albeit with still a long way to go. The ace up my sleeve is that I can be nostalgic in hindsight, reaping all the perks of the past without giving up any of the luxuries of the present. I can be pompous in theory and practical in fact.

I embrace being everything and nothing all at once. And that’s perfectly fine.

Supernova

Words: Caleb Katsakis IG: @halevacci

Illustration: Rai Cade IG: @arcademade_

It’s like stepping into another world. Every time I set foot on the dance floor every wall falls around me. It doesn’t matter if my feet are on floorboards, concrete, or grass. Wherever the music moves, rhythms boom, colours glow, and people flow, every location is the same. Another world out of this world. Where appearances don’t matter.

Fear

Judgement

Isolation

Everything falls away. All that’s left

Are the sounds, beings, smoke, electricity, catharsis, and euphoria. Picture this.

The week’s numbing debilitation only increases as Monday ceases to exist. As if standing on a glacial mound surrounded by snow-laden mountains of ice, you stride frostbitten through the seemingly endless frigid haze of the passing day's accumulated malaise. You cannot see anything blinded by this suffocating white noise, but you know where you’re going. Because you can feel the presence of escape.

Because the week has fallen before your feet, and its successor beckons, demanding your attendance at its exhibition of freedom. When you finally step forward in this direction of celebration, there is only an inexplicable warming escalation.

The aura of life pulling you closer as it grows stronger. The goosebumps begin to recede from your skin and heat rises within.

With each passing step, the fog starts to evaporate. Floating away like a grudge that has finally been allowed to let go. The enclosing frozen structures follow suit. One by one each towering reminder of constriction simply melts. So close to the pulsating beacon, your illuminating haven.

The final step taken breaks all expectations: In tandem with each lingering shattered chain, the lifeless blank surface beneath you gives way, revealing an ethereal adorned evergreen glade. Flora beyond recognition and description, just flourishing hues and astonishing forms taking shape. Others exactly like you revel in this magnificent beauty, greater than anything one could ever envision.

This is how I felt when I took my first steps into this glorious landscape. Me and my family together on this spontaneous journey. Faced with nothing but darkness and a faint glow accentuating swaying silhouettes. The foreshadows spoiling what’s to come. Yet to me, the grooving trees in their verdant garments seemed to be inviting us to join them in their joyous festivity. We slipped through, following the notes and breeze that breathed such vitality into the foliage. Emerging into the clearing, as if a treasure chest lay open overflowing before us. A vivid cluster of neon flashes, mingling limbs, quaking beats, and above it all, cares stripped to the wind. There could’ve been only 50 people dancing, but dancing under the safeguard of moonlight, the brilliant stars, and the atmosphere of it all, it felt like there were thousands.

Thousands of beautiful characters parading down this catwalk of the night. We struck poses till our joints creaked, vogueing till our bones ached. Not even the Sun's awakening could phase us. We were just there.

Living in experience.

Moving to the tune of the moment. And just like then, right now as I write these words, placing all of the pure magic I encountered onto the page, re-creating the fantastical reality that can never fall away, I can rave on and on until my light gives way…

Talk to Me in Your Love Language

Words: Simonnette Labiran IG: @1800simo_

Art: Sakshi Ahuja IG: @toosakforyou

Australia is made up of a range of cultures, all united by their desire to love. So many people from different ethnic backgrounds fall in love and don’t necessarily share the same native language. How did they make it work… if at all? Can the language of love override linguistic barriers? I explored these questions with two people both in multilingual relationships. Anja’s native language is Norwegian and she moved here from Norway in 2022 f or university. Pamela moved from Mexico to Australia at a young age, and her native language is Latin American Spanish.

When, where, or how did you meet your long-term or potential partner?

A: We met over Tinder and he was keen to get off the app so he gave me his number. On our first date, we met up at Caulfield Park and instantly clicked.

P: We first met in high school because we were in the same class. We both had a little crush on each other for the next few years but we were too shy to act on it. Then one day during my first year, he invited me to see him at Melbourne Uni and asked me to be his girlfriend.

Did you feel any cultural differences or find it hard to communicate?

A: I don’t find Australians and Norwegians to be too different… but what first stood out to me was his strong Aussie accent and his deep voice. Especially in the beginning when I first came here, I couldn’t understand his accent or the slang associated with Australian culture.

P: A little bit. I’ve been very lucky that my partner has a pretty open and relaxed relationship with his parents about his dating habits. But with my parents, I still have to ask for their permission for everything and they have to know exactly where I am. Another difference is that in Mexico, we have a lot of intimate physical touch, even if you’re just friends. We all kiss each other on the cheek when we’re greeting each other, but he’s very reserved and I’ve found that to be true with all Australians.

How do you try to express yourself without speaking?

A: Both of our love languages are very physical. So even though we had some language barriers, we still managed to communicate our love through touch. My other love language is gift-giving, while he loves spending quality time with me. Because we value these other love languages, we don’t have to rely on words to show our love.

P: Kindness is one of his biggest love languages. He loves it when I leave him little notes or send him nice text messages.

Despite the cultural and linguistic differences, do you feel love can overcome them?

A: There are a lot of things that come up that we have opposite opinions about. We agree to disagree and respect each other’s views. We love each other so much that our differences, instead of pushing us apart, are just another way for us to connect.

P: I think it did. I’m very fluent in English so it isn’t too hard for us to communicate. But he started learning Spanish so he could communicate with my grandparents. It did take him about a year, but he can hold a conversation with them now and my grandma loves him.

Do you have any advice for others?

A: To learn each other’s languages and pay attention to how your partner expresses themself.

P: Just give it your best and keep talking to your partner about what’s difficult for you. Teach them about your culture and be open to learning more about their culture as well.

Clouded View Artificial

Taking a scroll on Instagram

Words: Anonymous

Collage: Steph Bridges

IG: @stephaniemaree22

How did her heatless curls come out so perfect? Ohhh, so that’s how you’re supposed to line your lips? Woah! Her skin is actually like glass! I wonder what skincare products she uses…

Aw this girl’s lounge room is so nice, I should start doing yoga in the morning too. Going for a walk down to the coffee shop for my morning coffee might not be a bad idea, let me check how much iced lattes are at that cafe down the road. $8? Nevermind.

Oh this girl is making her breakfast at home… wow, look at her kitchen, the mugs look so good hung up like that, maybe I could do that.

What’s this tomato girl aesthetic all about? Hmm I don’t think I could go with just BB cream, but it looks so good on her.

Ok! She whips her sage green linen-blend covers off, sits up in bed, gives her eyes a rub and sets her phone down on her neatly organised, chic mid-century bedside table.

Sorry I can’t speak Chinese

Words: Angel Tully

IG: @angel.tully

Art: Siena Thomas IG: @designedbysiena

Humans love to put things into boxes.

We want to categorise people, places and objects as things that are ‘known’ and things that are ‘unknown’. We want to identify the similarities and differences between them based on our previous encounters. Naturally, this leads to making judgements based on stereotypes for better or worse. It is simply how we are programmed to make sense of the world.

When we encounter different ethnic cultures, our desire to categorise flourishes. We ask questions like: What makes a particular culture different from another? What values unite us as all humans, and what separates us by the way we look or the language we speak? Finding a way to internally sort through the information and put a label on people helps us to process the wealth of diversity and culture within our society.

Now this is all well and good in a world where there is no such thing as a multiracial individual, and everyone fits neatly into their mutually exclusive boxes. But in Australia in 2024, that is simply not the case. We are as the popular phrase would put it a melting pot country.

So what’s it like to belong to the abyss between two defined cultures? It can sometimes feel like two halves don’t quite equal a whole. Like the culture you feel most at home in is both of them, yet neither at the same time. An oxymoron if you will.

In many ways, I have always connected more strongly with my Australian side, due to growing up here in an Englishspeaking home and hanging out with mostly White friends. Celebrating my Chinese culture felt like an activity reserved for being around family and my fellow bananas. Even so, I always feel slightly out of step with both sides. It is as if no matter what side of myself I lean on, people will always notice that I am a little bit different.

Even if they don’t intentionally put me into that box or overtly treat me differently, the unwillingness to fully acknowledge me as being ‘enough’ of either side reinforces my cultural identity crisis.

But just like how my bloodline runs across two different sides of the world, the life of a Halfie has two sides of a coin. Being half-Chinese and half-Australian feels like a lot of things. It feels like never having a celebrity lookalike due to a lack of representation. It feels like one of your parents looking like they could have adopted you. It feels like getting asked where you are from because apparently if you aren’t White you must be an immigrant. It feels like getting called ‘exotic’ and being unsure if it’s a fetish or a compliment. It feels like getting told you speak great English (it’s literally my first language??) and equally grilled about why you don’t speak Mandarin or Cantonese like a good Chinese girl.

On the flip side, it feels like having the privilege to embrace and share two different ethnic stories. It feels like being born with a more open-minded view of the world and its many ethnicities and cultures. It feels like having a BBQ by the pool on a Saturday and Yum Cha on a Sunday. It feels like being the product of a love so great that it travelled continents to unite. It feels like getting to share an intimate unspoken connection and understanding with any other Half Asian person I come across. It feels like being unique in my own beautiful way.

What I have come to realise is that it is ok that I don’t speak Cantonese, and it is ok that there aren’t as many people in my life who look like me. To me, embracing your culture is not about ticking off a list of boxes that let you into an exclusive club, it is about being proud of who you are and sharing those parts of yourself with the people you love. Culture is about family, love, traditions, good food and stories that outlive generations. It is about your own feeling of belonging, and not about anyone else’s opinion on that.

So no, I am not sorry that I don’t speak Cantonese. Not saying that I might not learn one day, but for now, I take solace in the fact that not speaking Cantonese doesn’t make me any less than half of who I am.

Feels Like Home To Me

Words & Art: Elizabeth Sabelino

IG: @elizabeth.sabelino

Blue. Red. Sun. Stars. Community. Faith. Spirit. My home.

Or so I thought it was. “Lakaw na ta,” my mother said. It felt like my future was on a thread. I couldn’t get it out of my head. Moving, moving, moving. Will I fit in?

I don’t want to move, is that a sin? Goodbye, my friends, Goodbye, my family, Goodbye to everything I’ve ever known. Goodbye, ‘Pilipinas Kong Mahal’.

Red. White. Blue. It took a while to get used to. They didn’t look like me, This wasn’t what I thought it would be.

We settled. New house. New school. New spaces. We moved again. New names. New faces. New places.

But nothing ever seemed to change. Fitting in. Fitting in. Fitting in. Why did I always try?

Smiggle Pens. Sportsgirl bag. Justice clothes. I never owned those.

We’ve boundless plains to share, How come I don’t really feel there?

The library. I belonged. I belonged. I belonged. It felt so free. I was there to be me.

Matilda, Geronimo, Thea and EJ: They were my friends. Characters on paper, To them, I was no stranger.

Purple. Yellow. Stars. Fourteen years now. A better future was the vow. A testament to my parents’ achievements –I apologise on the grounds of disagreements.

Community. Faith. Spirit. I, once again, could feel it. Friends that turned to family, Who would help us ever so happily. I feel grounded now.

What is home?

Is it a place, a country, a feeling, or a person? What if it’s all of those things in unison?

Home is when I’m in Ormoc. Home is when I feel free. Home is when I can be me.

Wouldn’t it be nice to live together. In the kind of world where we belong?

The Beach Boys